Tripppin In The Bahamas – The Gang’s All Here

With the customs and immigration process behind us we were all ready for some adventure and food. Not specifically in that order. The folks at Dive Abaco were quick to suggest a local coffee shop down the road a bit where we could grab some sustenance. It didn’t take long, and the five of us found ourselves walking down a narrow road leading out of Marsh Harbor in search of our first Bahamian meal. I was in heaven. I’ve always loved walking around the islands wearing my goofy straw hat, some flops, and a backpack. It’s about as far as i can get from the bustling, tech-crazed world I live in back home.

A half mile later we stumbled into this wonderful little coffee shop where locals congregated in the corner, and the smell of fresh pastries filled the air. We quite literally bought the mother and daughter team out of everything they had in the deli case. We were starving, and didn’t care who knew. You could almost see disbelief strewn across the faces of the old women in the corner as we loaded up our backpacks with food, and slammed back coffee last meal style. With some life juice (coffee) flowing through us, and the fresh doughnuts being doled out we were ready to take on the world. Well, we were at least ready to walk back to the boat and figure out what to do next.

The rest of the clan didn’t arrive until later that afternoon, so we had some down time to explore and figure out where to grab some supplies. One of the challenges and benefits of not having a car on the island was that the boat had to be our lifeline to town. If we needed food, fuel, scuba tanks filled or supplies we had to rely on the boat to take us to where we needed to go. It’s fun, but it can also be a pain in the ass… not to mention expensive. I calculated that a simple run to Marsh Harbor costs us about $15 each way in the boat. Not that it was an issue, but I’m one of those people who likes to keep everything in perspective.

We loaded back into the boat after stopping by Dive Abaco one last time to negotiate tank rentals for the week. Everyone on the trip was going to be diving, and SCUBA tanks are almost always easier to rent than to own and travel with. You won’t believe how small a boat gets when tanks are added to the equation. We left the tanks for another day and ran back to the house; passing all of the skiffs, blow boats, trawlers and commercial vessels still tied up in the harbor.

The girls were arriving later that afternoon with a brief connection in Nassau, and we wanted to have the house in order for their arrival. Now, our home was rather amazing, but it did have one HUGE issue. It hadn’t been used in months, and the inside was musty and damp. So much so, that we had opened the entire place up for 24 hours and it was still an issue. Nothing like staying in a million-dollar home that smelled like the bilge of a boat. To add insult to injury one of the AC units was jacked, and made a sound similar to someone throwing a million pennies into the blades of a helicopter every time it was turned on. One call to the property manager and the house was teaming with a cleaning crew, and a repairman brandishing a new AC unit.

Just a few short hours later the team started trickling in the door with rolly-bags in tow. It was a whole bunch of hugs, “whoa look at this place” coupled with a few “I see that you all made it” comments. We quickly followed hellos with cocktails and an amazing sunset. Finally, the gang was all here.